Beginning of the End
by A.R. Carpenter
Summary: What does it mean to end a race? A short tale explaining from Omega's POV of how Neo Arcadia was created, and the events that lead up to his embarking on his 'mission' of enlightenment.


Mega Man X and all assorted characters are all copyrighted to Capcom.  
  
This story is copyrighted 2003 by A.R. Carpenter, reproduction of any part of this story in any medium is prohibited, unless with written permission from the author. Measures **will** be taken against anyone who alters, copies, distributes, or claims authorship. If you ever consider doing as such, here's a little bit of trivia I'd like you to know - they can only charge me for murder if they find the body.  
  
--  
  
"Beginning of the End."  
  
By A.R. Carpenter  
  
--  
  
**End:** noun & verb -  
the extreme limit; the point beyond which a thing does not continue.  
conclusion; finish  
an ultimate state or condition  
the limit of endurability  
  
*  
  


A slender finger traced the words along the data-book as he read them, sitting sternly within the soft leather chair in the silence of the room. His study was empty and silent besides himself, the room half lit by only a simple lamp beside his seat, casting his desk and racks of data-books softly into shadow. Blood red iris's moved in steady lines as it read one line after another, absorbing the information.

The odd thought struck him barely an hour ago, and he couldn't rest until he solved the answer. He had retreated to his study as fast as he was able, and set upon the task of searching through his private library to find the answer to the oddly maddening question.

The question was presented easily enough, as if from idle conversation. After inspecting and feeling rather impressed by a new line of cloned soldiers, he had chuckled darkly to himself that he would bring the cursed reploid race to an end. Halperia, who was floating softly beside, cocked his head and asked with sincere curiosity, "Sir, was does it mean exactly to end something?"  
It was confusing at first, and the question seemed rather obvious, so much so his brow pursed in a frown, "An end is the destruction of something, Halperia. I believe that is obvious."   
"Ah, yes, but sir…" Halperia countered, although tone much more humbled, "What I meant was, if we are to bring all those reploids to an end, is it simply as easy as killing them all? Is the end simply death…or is it more than that?"   
That took him aback, not because of the aerialist's well-known frank curiosity, but he didn't have an immediate answer to that. In fact he had no answer at all. So disturbed by this, he rather quickly and tactfully changed the subject and sent Halperia off on an errand for him, so he may find the answer.  


What, exactly, is an end to an entire race? Was death simply enough? Or must he erase their entire existence from all history?

The latter seemed utterly impossible, due to the mark reploids have made on the history and current state of the planet. They were finally well-accepted citizens now the Maverick wars were over, more rights given to them as the two races rebuilt the world side by side. Despite the large amount of initial shunning and racism after the Eurasia incident, both sides learned to fully co-operate and co-exist despite threats and differences. When the virus was wiped out in the final uprising, there was no longer a main reason to dislike reploids, as thus they were stepped up to be equals to the human race.

His eyes narrowed in anger, it just wasn't good enough for those reploids. After the anarchy of Eurasia the world governments were scattered and large amounts of land were lost from their control. As the pollution slowly went down there were groups of reploids alone on the land, scattered across the globe, along with humans after areas were habitable again. Over half a century of lawlessness, as people simply tried to survive and rebuild, an entire society lost as they knew it as the humans and weaker reploids fled underground with limited rations and a refugee lifestyle.

Thusly, the Neo Arcadia project was born in the later decades, founded by a human scientist named Ciel, a conglomerate working to reunite the world in one society after the so-called Apocalypse. They sought out one government, refuge, settlement, and tribe after another, re-establishing communications and trade between them all, even assimilate some into others. Countries warped and twisted into one, dividing and capturing empty land, new governments and cities established. Neo Arcadia became the international stock market, allowing trade and communications, becoming rich enough to create brand new cities of protection.

Ciel had wished for him to help, to become an ambassador and soothe the fears of the people, the naïve little girl, and he agreed to take the reigns. All the humans believed that the one who worked with this worldwide salvation was their beloved hero, Mega Man X. The poor, desperate fools. They were so overjoyed that their past savior had somehow revived they flocked to him, making his new project so much easier as they obediently listened like trusting sheep. They needed a shepard to bring them together and tell them how to find food and water, after being alone in the dark for so long.

They didn't realize that weak fool X had died a long time ago in his futile battle fifty years ago. Omega didn't believe himself a clone, a mere copy - he was an opportunist, using the guise of an old hero so he may guide these souls to happiness. 

But not everything was so simple. Different groups had found ugly differences between them and quarreled, over land, over rations and water, over whatever petty thing they found worthy. To prevent an endless surge of wars, Neo Arcadia became the prime controller and monitor of these rations and land, and distributed them evenly and fairly, and dispersed a peacekeeping force to stop any more fighting. To continue to be a nuisance would to be terminated from the Neo Arcadia program, and none were foolish enough to do that. Thusly, the Collective Global Territories was born.

And yet there were problems, and a major one was the reploids.

The reploid race had mostly splintered off from the humans, due to the fact that a large amount had been infected, and rest became Maverick Hunters or pollution cleaners, while humans cowered underground. They were mostly useless, as they could not leave from underground for many decades, while reploids finally had more freedom than they. It got to the heads of many, the old problem of reploid arrogance once again surfacing as they traveled on the surface with no restraints or control, doing as they wished. With the examples of the Mavericks around them, some even descended into crime and general rowdiness. 

So when Neo Arcadia tried to merge all societies and people together, some reploids were being annoyingly difficult, or plain rebellious outright. After living such a free lifestyle of fighting for survival and general lack of restrictions, compared to the humans that were forced to band together to survive, they proved hard to integrate. Over time most reploids slowly cooled down and joined peacefully. But there was a good number of reploids who didn't wish to give up their freedom for anything, even a calm society. Skirmishes broke out, rallies of independence, a constant conflict. Unlike the various territories that were soothed by trade and communications by the negotiations of their savior, these reploids wished nothing but to be left alone, but some were willing to steal rations and be a pain.

It wasn't until one certain reploid called Ishmael made a rather crude statement to the CGT, gleefully stating their independence to the weak and flawed humankind they did not wish to be a part of. Reploids, they believed, were far superior and would have no major troubles if the human race conveniently dropped off the face of the planet.

Seeing as this view was identical to the infamous Mavericks a few decades past, it wasn't too surprising that the reaction to this was sheer horror and even slight panic for both humans and reploids alike. Neither was very warm to the memories of the old wars and was not happy that some reploids wished to create that horrible chaos all over again. 

So they looked to their 'savior' for an answer.

He growled in annoyance at the memory, of the human and reploid ambassadors and senators earnest for his guidance, the pathetic look in their eyes like they were scared little children. He knew, then, someone had to be iron-fisted about this little group of rebels that threatened everything they now had, and hopefully some of these political fools would grow a spine in the process.

He placed down a warning to these rebellious reploids to either peacefully integrate into the CGT or to leave their territories, adding that he had no qualms in countering any sort of terrorism or further trouble. Ishmael came to the Neo Arcadia headquarters himself to discuss the matter. Gritting his teeth in fury, he remembered the scruffy looking little rat smirk smugly and said it wasn't as easy as joining anymore. Reploids have the right to be free from humans, and he wasn't going to simply fade away without fight when so many reploids can shirk off this society. He even dared to call the CGT a communist group, with Neo Arcadia running the entire world as it saw fit, with the entire world as it's pawns. He gave Ishmael two weeks to leave or forceful measures would be taken.

Ishmael and the rebellious reploids he had united did not leave. Instead they flooded the cities with propaganda, attacked Neo Arcadian guards and convoys, and cause questioning loyalty within the peaceful reploids, watching these rebels preach their lies on how the CGT was nothing more than glorified worldwide communism, Neo Arcadia at the helm. 

Enough was enough. He had Ishmael hunted down and arrested, along with other high-ranking members of their rebel group, and had them all executed. On hearing the message that the same would happen to them if they did not leave, many fled the territories. Peace once again settled, but the vague air of suspicion was still reeking in the cities, reploids questioning the policies of Neo Arcadia. 

A month later, there was a terrorist attack upon a Neo Arcadian main office in a major capital city, well within the boundaries of the CGT as if to mock them. 47 humans and reploids died, hundreds injured as a bomb went off inside the higher levels of the building. Outraged, he demanded that the entire city be placed under emergency lockdown, and the ones responsible hunted down. The few that were captured were mercilessly tortured until they revealed the location of their accomplices, and the entire terrorist network was found. They were all executed in an open courtyard to warn anyone else who dared disturb the peace and security of the CGT.

He paused then, looking up at the ceiling with a devilish little smirk as he recalled how those filthy rats screamed and wailed under the torture. They only took a few weeks to crack, the weak little fools.

"Why…?" one of them had asked, face drenched in tears and blood, hair matted and slick, "…W-why are you…duh-doing th-this to us…?"  
"Why? Isn't it so obvious? I'm not going to let anyone stain my Arcadia. Even a worthless little rat like you."  
"You…cuh-control the whole wuh-world…n-no one has…"  
"The right?" he had finished, cocking his head.  
"…Yes…n-not even yuh-you…"  
"Ha ha ha…little fool. You believe I do this for amusement? Someone must organize and monitor all the people upon this planet. If no one will do it, then I will. Look all the countries - no pointless patriotism, no wars, no racism, everything is united and complete. Why is that so bad?"  
A pair of dark eyes narrowed, "…Th-they have…no honor…no pride…n-no freedom. Fuh-freedom is wh-what muh-makes us alive…wh-who we a-are…"  
"And how would a filthy rat like yourself know honor, pride, and freedom? You run around like animals without any organization and dignity and call **that** freedom. My people have peace, security, dignity, and contentment."  
"Do they…huh-have…happiness?"  
"Happiness? Oh yes. I'll make them happy. Too bad I can't say the same for you. You are not a part of my Arcadia."  


And that was that. All the reploid rebels had either fled for their lives or were executed, and peace reigned once again. But to him it wasn't entirely over, not yet. The rebels had made a mark on his society and people were now beginning to whisper in the darkest corners just how noble Neo Arcadia's intentions were, and the reploids had listened a bit too attentively to the preaching of their race's superiority. Reploids had always been infamous for being too arrogant and hot-headed, a massive fear of persecution that made them scorn any sort of human authority, and now after so many years of simply being happy the wars were over it was happening all again. The stupid little fools! Barely fifty years ago the Mavericks had finally died and these idiots had learned nothing.

All reploids were now held under suspicion in his eyes. He looked over the various reploid designs; all based one way or another on Doctor Cain's original design. Flaws had been weeded out and better efficiency of course, but it was a long and slow process of slowly perfecting what was only a reflection of the original design it was copied from. His. Or rather, the original X's. 

Looking at the flawed designs at the birth of the reploid race, they had no real idea on what they were doing. Reploids killing themselves and humans in their arrogance, so easily swayed by a simple virus, while X stood above it all and saved the planet from the reploids. These flawed creatures were to blame for the decimation of the earth, built by fools trying to match the genius of Doctor Light. Why did no one see this before? These reploids were imperfect, defective, and they laid ruin to the world.

It had to be stopped. This insane madness must be stopped right here and now. He would not let his Arcadia crumble with the taint of these imperfect creatures.

He decided that a perfect reploid must be directly based on Mega Man X's design, almost a perfect copy. He did not wish to create a clone of himself. He ordered some materials and then shut himself in the lab, creating the basic blueprint for a revolutionary design of reploid. He created the first one himself, re-creating his basic design and then tweaking it, molding an individual and special reploid with his own hands. It was like creating a son.

After activation the new reploid worked beautifully, with complete perfection. He tested the design with viruses and multiple scans, and his entire matrix worked just like the original. He named his new son Phantom.

Then Halperia, Favnir, and Leviathan, all built by his own hands, his sons and daughter. They showed no signs of typical reploid arrogance or temperament, and after sending them out on helping maintaining Neo Arcadia and the earth reconstruction program they showed no faults or flaws at all over the years. He was overjoyed at the success.

That left the problem with these old-generation defects, still a threat to his Arcadia. He immediately halted further manufacturing of them, but that didn't get rid of the 2.3 million still left behind. They had to be neutralized, taken care of forever…but how?

Testing proved that they could not be upgraded to his superior model, after all his reploid test subjects either lost all their memory, went insane, or simply burnt out from the strain. Their inferior designs couldn't handle his improved design matrix. The test subjects also seemed rather indignant about being inferior to a new design, and being saddled with the blame of the Maverick wars just because how they were made. They blamed the virus, the fools. They didn't see their weak minds were to blame for being so susceptible to it in the first place.

There was one final option that he could take - he had to destroy them.

First he tactfully began expressing concern to the human presidents and senators on the continuing rebelliousness of the reploids, nothing more than mere musing at first. It was a few months of placing doubt until he almost casually asked aloud that perhaps the Maverick wars would have never happened if the reploid design weren't so flawed. Understandably they were quite shocked by this at first, until they saw the data and research he had done. If he had attempted this barely a hundred years ago he would have been cast out in anger, with the rebuke that perhaps if humans weren't so heartless and limited reploid rights in the first place, then reploids would have no reason to rebel. That the humans had a good part in it as well. But these humans had only seen the massive destruction of the Mavericks at the end of the wars and the suffering of the injured planet, had not properly intermingled with reploids and seen the terrorism of the rebel reploids - when they saw all of this could have been avoided…

It was so simple it almost made him laugh. These humans had carried a lifetime of hard work and suffering, their golden age demolished in a day and all humanity cowering in fear underground for generations. Then they finally found someone to blame - the reploids. If only they hadn't been so arrogant, if only they weren't so weak-minded, if only they were more understanding…he had quite a bit of fun twisting history and watched the anger boil within these suffering humans. Reploids had been nothing but trouble since they were created and nearly destroyed the entire planet. They were still a threat and must be dealt with.

So once again, they looked to their savior.

It was just as simple as showing them his new reploid design and even arranging a meeting with his children to show he'd found a vastly superior design, directly based off his own. They would have no problems or malfunctions - risk of any sort of data corruption or instability was less than 1%. The presidents were delighted and fully accepted to begin manufacture this new design.

That left getting rid of the inferior reploids. He needed a special project for this, an entire corporation…no, army to complete this task. A group just like the Maverick Hunters, so ruthlessly efficient in hunting down rouge reploids and destroying them. He couldn't use reploids this time around however and humans were too risky. Something with utmost loyalty and no conscience to get in the way.

After many days of thinking and musing, his daughter noticed his distress; "Something wrong, Father?"  
A frustrated exhale, "I'm trying to think of a solution to a problem."  
"You do so much of that," Leviathan commented wryly, "Well, what is the problem?"  
"I'm trying to think of a way we can get rid of all these inferior reploids, but I'm not sure how. We can't use reploids or any humans to hunt them down and destroy them."  
"So you're wondering what to use?"  
"Yes. Something loyal and having no qualms in doing this. I can't imagine what, though."  
She placed a thoughtful finger to her chin, "That **is** a toughie…" a pause, "Why not a robot?"  
"A robot?" he echoed in confusion.  
"Yeah! A programmed robot like back during the Wily wars! You can mass-produce them and they'll do whatever you say. They don't need emotions either, so they won't have a problem with killing those reploids."  
"A very interesting idea," he mused, pensively stroking his cheek with a finger, "But robots are simplistic and predictable, unable to learn. That's why they were rejected in favor of reploids."  
"So…" she drawled, "Why not make them able to learn? Just like a reploid."  
"The ability to learn is what made reploids different from robots, Leviathan." He informed flatly.  
"Not totally. They had human-like emotion too. So can't you make a robot that can learn but doesn't have any emotions? Like a half robot half reploid?"  
He blinked at this, churning the idea over within his mind until he realized that certainly did make a lot of sense, "So I can either create a robot than can learn, or a reploid without emotions."  
"Yeah."  
"…Quite the ingenious idea, Leviathan. I think this may be the answer."  
She grinned widely with accomplishment, "Thanks!"  


Ahh, his children, so utterly willing to please. Completely perfect, they were.

He named his new creation an ersaloid - derived from the word 'ersatz', meaning a false reproduction. He used his base design yet again to make a much less powerful, simpler version, but made sure it was free of any sort of flaws. A mere shade of himself, to be mass-produced. The new A.I. matrix needed some work, but eventually he got what he set out for - a robot that could learn, predict, communicate with it's brethren and most important…follow orders with ruthless efficiency. Trial runs on a few reploid test subjects proved that the ersaloids were too quick, powerful, clever, and organized for the reploids to over-come them, and they died in a very quick and effective manner.

Thus his new project, the Neo Arcadian Hunters, was born. 

Of course, he couldn't order a massacre right from the start - so first, he tracked down and eliminated any sort of reploid criminals or troublemakers, so quick and quiet no one really noticed the scum being destroyed. Said reploids would vanish without a trace and any witnesses were advised to keep out of the matter, lest they be dealt with. When they had all vanished, it was the simple task of arresting the other ones - he destroyed the battle-designed and the oldest reploids first, and they posed a larger threat. As the numbers of destroyed reploids began to rise, so did the panic and horror of the rest of the reploids. When a pirate TV station on the net released proof on what Neo Arcadia was doing, all reploids went into uproar.

The fools. No one would listen to them - the human presidents and senators were on his side. 

But the reploids made a valiant attempt to protest and rally against Neo Arcadia, taking humans along with them. To stop any further noise in his Arcadia, he released his data and information used to sway the human leaders - if things had been done right the first time, none of this would have ever happened. He simply was setting it right.

Slowly, but surely, the humans turned on the reploids, cursing them and forbidding them to buy any goods, smashing their homes and shops, even the occasional riot where many reploids were killed and injured. Their willing alienating attitudes made the task of eliminating reploids was so much easier - they would report reploids for the smallest crimes and insults, even capture them and turn them in to Neo Arcadia themselves. Any reploids who tried to flee the CGT were killed before they could even get near the border. Their numbers began to plummet, thousands dying across the world in a few months.

But just when he was foolish enough to let down his guard a year later, a traitor he had never suspected struck. Ciel, using her position within Neo Arcadia, disabled the computer systems so that the entire conglomeration was sent into chaos. Without communications or monitors, it was impossible to send orders to the ersaloid troops. Thusly, thousands of reploids were able to escape in the ensuing confusion, Ciel escaping along with them.

Outraged, as soon as the computer matrix was back up he sent thousands of his ersaloid soldiers into the wastelands to hunt them down. Ill-prepared groups were found and killed, the soldiers sniffing out their hiding places and hunting them down as they ran. As thousands died in outright massacres, a large number still managed to escape across the border and out of the CGT. Out there it was much harder to operate, with pollution and less communications - he could at least rest in the fact those foolish reploids would not live long either.

He started to set up fortresses and posts in that wasteland, using them as small bases for his soldiers to seek out and find the fugitive reploids. But it was hard to direct them from almost half the globe away. Another problem presented.  
Phantom approached him deliberately this time; "Father? I believe I may have a solution to our current dilemma."  
"And what may that be?" he asked curiously.  
"The ersaloids are not advanced enough to make complex orders upon their own. They need direction and need to be placed in a strategic manner. Since we cannot do that from here, I suggest we place operatives into our bases and direct from there."  
"Are you suggesting I send a commander out there to direct the troops?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"But whom? I can't let a human go out there because they'll get sick from the pollution. We've also barely begun creating the superior generation of reploids. No one has enough experience."  
"I do, Father, as do my brothers and sister. You have personally trained us in the art of fighting and warfare - it would be an honor to help you."  
A shocked jerk backwards, "What!? I cannot send you out there alone!"  
"Father, we see the great crusade that you lead, in trying to enlighten the world. We could not be respectful children if we did not wish to help our Father in such an important task. We realize it's importance, and thus, we are willing to fight for it. Please, Father."  
He was silent at this, staring in a mix of pleasant surprise and hesitation. He sighed almost resignedly, "Have you asked the others about this?"  
"I have, Father, as they are as just as willing as I. We are more than ready, Father."  
"…So be it then. I shall appoint you all Generals with your own specific units, and assign you the territories you must patrol."  
"We shall give our all, Father."  


So it was. Phantom was assigned to the marshes and woods, Halperia the mountains and plains, Favnir the desert and barren lands, and Leviathan the shores and waters. They lead their different units out to battle, occasionally accompanying them as they slayed one rebel group after another, various commander reploids sent to work under them over time. Every so often they would return to Neo Arcadia HQ and report their progress, the reploid race slowly diminishing over the years to a bare few hundred thousand. Most of these were the more organized and powerful reploid rebels, finding secure and safe hiding places and rather adequate fighters.

Ciel was also out there somewhere with the main faction of the rebel reploids, deep underground in Najan. There were also the few groups of particularly tough rebels; the fast and intelligent guerilla fighters of Iluysia, the powerful and determined warriors in the sandy mountains of Kulqa, and the obnoxiously clever hackers of Terrasta.

But they would fall soon enough…

--  
  
He shut the data-book closed with a snap, resting it upon his lap as he stared out the window thoughtfully. There was a soft tap on the door, and after the command was given for the visitor to enter, Halperia slowly opened the door and stepped in, smiling respectfully.  
"Yes?"  
"My apologies, Father, but Minister Winster has arrived to see you." Halperia reported softly.  
"Alright then," he replied, but did not move. It was a long moment of silence before he began, "Halperia."  
"Mm? Yes?"  
"That question you asked, about ending something…I believe I can answer you now."  
Halperia seemed rather delighted, "Oh?"  
"To put an end to something is to end any further continuation of it. Not simply wipe it out…but make sure that not a single trace of them, their lifestyle, or anything pertaining directly to them exists. I cannot wipe them from history - but I shall ensure they stay there, to be forgotten forever. When the last reploid falls, so very soon from now, that shall be the final mention of a reploid forever. They shall be buried along with any associations, and be left to become ancient history. To destroy and forget…is the ultimate death, the ultimate end to such a pathetic and bloodthirsty race. Such as they deserve."  
"If reploids are not to be mentioned again, what shall people like myself be called?" Halperia asked curiously.  
A pause, "Yes…you're right. The new design is more than that - it's a superior race. Evroid - evolved android. Where reploids once existed you shall be, where people spoke of their names it shall now be yours."  
"A clean slate for the androids, Father?" Halperia gave a double-edge smile of happiness and nastiness.  
"A complete rebirth, my son. And we shall help do the same with the entire world."  
"The entire world?" Halperia blinked, smile vanishing quizzically.  
He placed the book upon a table beside him and stood up, giving a wide grin, "Of course. I have much further goals beyond reploids - I have great plans for my Arcadia."  
  
END.  
  
--   
  


Harketh! Author Notes!

Dun dun dun dun! Heh, evil little Omega! Do you think he'll purify humans when he's destroyed reploids? Hm?

Anyway, this was my take on the events that lead up to the creation of Neo Arcadia, what it is, and why it was in such high power. Plus I gave names to those X-clone things! I never saw a name for those, so I thought like mad and came up with that. So don't steal the name! 

I'd also like to thank Cool Fire Bird with her own RMZ adaption, for giving me inspiration on this. About 'superior reploids' and all that. Hats to you, hon! 

I also took some bits from the plot to Dark Reign. A war game with a in-depth plot! HORRORS!

Finally, freaky fact - I also took major inspiration from Hitler before and during WWII. Look above....seem familiar? Krystalnacht? Cleaning the reploids? Mm? 


End file.
